


Strela Amura

by CenozurasKnight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, BDSM, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Genderswap, Hurt/Comfort, Lemon, Nyotalia, Romance, Violence, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CenozurasKnight/pseuds/CenozurasKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting one December night forever changes the lives of a Russian officer and an unmarried Lithuanian girl. Fictional WW2 AU. M/F, Russia x Fem! Lithuania. Human Names Used. Contains Mature Language and Situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Arrow of Cupid

Despite growing up in a cold nation, Ivan still despised the overwhelming presence of snow that greeted him as he emerged from his private barracks at the field headquarters. After securing the lock on the outer door, the young officer leaned heavily on his faucet pipe and limped towards the massive iron enclosure that encircled the compound. Immediately, he was met by two heavily armed Red Army soldiers that had been patrolling the yard. After a quick exchange, he was allowed to pass through the fortified gate into the surrounding city. 

Three frigid inches of snow had fallen since that afternoon on the narrow, war-damaged streets, and with the impending temperature drop, two more were likely on their way. The thought caused Ivan to frown. Even though he was stationed 700 kilometers away from home, winter’s icy grip still managed to reach him. The young officer had hoped that his time spent in the Lithuanian countryside would have been more agreeable but, as usual, the late December sky never seemed to cooperate with his wishes.

Ivan winced as the blistering wind targeted his face yet again, ferociously biting at his chronically chapped skin and pelting it with freshly falling snow. The platinum blonde responded by pulling his favorite scarf snugly over the bridge of his nose and turning his head slightly at an angle so it caught less of the breeze as he walked. His ushanka hat would need to do the rest by guarding his ears and the top of his head with its soft lining of brown bear fur. Both his special defenses against the winter came in the form of these two precious possessions, each one a gift from his beloved sisters and meant to keep him warm while he was off fighting in the war.

In a low, sweet tone, Ivan started humming one of his favorite folk songs, ‘Katyusha’, as he entered the officer’s club and took his usual seat at the end of the bar. 

“Comrade, I hear it’s your birthday! What are you doing there, drinking alone?” one of the men from his unit shouted when they finally noticed him, “Come. Celebrate with us!” 

Ivan grinned widely at the unexpected invitation and joined the group of drunken soldiers gathered around a wooden table in the middle of the room.

“Here! Drink! Drink!” a shabbily dressed officer cried as he thrust a glass into Ivan’s hand. 

“Spacisbo,” Ivan responded gratefully as he settled beside the other men and removed his hat. 

“For your birthday, we drink,” the shabbily dressed officer exclaimed as he loudly slapped the table, “And then, we find a pretty girl to take extra special care of you tonight! There is a brothel near the depot! We should all go there!!” 

A childish blush burned Ivan’s cheeks as his companions cried out in agreement. “Nyet! I-I don’t visit prostitutes,” he stammered, casting a flustered gaze towards the bottom of his vodka glass.

“But it’s your birthday,” a solider protested as he threw his arm around Ivan’s shoulder, “Don’t you want a little company?” 

“I can’t,” Ivan blurted out, “They remind me too much of my sister!!” 

His drinking companions burst into laughter at his honesty and their reaction caused Ivan to become even more embarrassed. Certainly, he liked girls, but any thoughts he had about fucking them were always tainted by his childhood memories of hearing Katyusha and her customers through their paper-thin walls back in Moscow.

“Oh, comrade! Forget about your sister!! It’s an officer’s duty to enjoy himself properly. Do it for the motherland! You’re a war hero! They’ll stumble over themselves just to suck your cock. Wouldn’t it be fun to ram your stick into one of their nice warm holes? You’re not afraid of a little pussy, are you, Ivan?” 

The young Russian’s eyes flashed dangerously at the shabbily dressed officer’s words. Of course he wasn’t afraid! And he withdrew the long faucet pipe he’d been using as a crutch from his winter overcoat and slammed it down beside the other man’s glass to make that point very clearly. He would not settle for anyone implying he was a coward. 

The others continued to laugh and guzzle their alcohol while Ivan’s quiet anger steadily began to rise. 

“I’m sorry, my friend,” one soldier said as he gestured towards Ivan’s wounded leg, “We should have been more considerate of your situation. Clearly all that surgery has given you a limp dick.” 

Ivan’s brow twitched and a string of low, ominous kols made his drinking companions quickly pale. Without hesitation, Ivan swung his metal pipe and shattered their glasses onto the floor. “If you want something hard, maybe you’ll like me ramming this pipe up your ass,” he stated in a cool, even tone as he gave the offensive soldier a strong shove that toppled him from his seat. 

“Ah, someone’s eager for a birthday spanking,” the soldier answered as he stumbled to his feet, fist drawn closely to his body in a pathetic drunken stance. Ivan rose from his stool and stared gravely into the other man’s bloodshot eyes. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Ivan challenged as he peered down his nose dangerously at the soldier.

Within moments, a fight had broken out between the two men and blows were exchanged. Ivan had no intention of losing, and, he would have won easily, if their scuffle hadn’t been broken up and he didn’t get himself kicked out of the bar. 

Now he was barely drunk, standing outside in the cold, wondering where he should go next. 

Ivan started walking. He really didn’t have another destination in mind, only a strong desire to drink his fill of vodka and to be in the company of others. It was a Saturday, and being so close to the New Year’s holiday, there were plenty of options available to him. Ivan opted to find the closest establishment serving alcohol and that just happened to be a nearby dance hall. 

The platinum blonde officer approached the large building on the opposite side of the street and stared up at the snow-covered banners that sagged pitifully above the glass paned double doors. The banners were hand-written in Lithuanian so he wasn’t able to read them, but a lighted tripod at the bottom of the stairs bore a wooden sign that offered some basic information about that night’s event and the cost of admittance in both languages. 

The dance was aptly entitled “Farewell, 44” and was open to the public for a nominal fee. Ivan shrugged and decided to give it a chance. He didn’t have much interest in dancing but was certain the event would be lively and that there would be plenty to drink. And really, he could think of no better way to spend the remainder of his twenty-first birthday than surrounded by a bunch of very happy strangers.


	2. Fate's Matchmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fem!Liet is introduced.

Victoria Lorinaitis anxiously ran her slender fingers along the back of her neck, lightly tracing one of the many red lines that disappeared beneath her collar. Even with make-up, her scars were still visible and the pearl necklace she borrowed to wear for the evening only seemed to draw more attention to their presence. Anyone she danced with was sure to notice them. How could they not? Their bodies would be so close; the moment his hand found her back, he would feel those disfiguring marks beneath her dress. 

Tori sighed deeply, shifting her gaze from the mirror atop her dressing table. She was being silly again, worrying about such things. She was only attending a party, not visiting the village matchmaker! What lie beneath her dress really had little bearing on how she would spend her evening. Tori would dance and then return home, end of story. Of course, her best friend, Felicyta, disagreed. Her Polish roommate had done a very good job of convincing her that some fellow at the dance hall would be interested in her simply because she was so pretty and sweet.

The prospect of meeting someone both excited and terrified the young Lithuanian woman. Tori was embarrassed to admit that she was still rather inexperienced with the opposite sex. She’d spent most of the war working in a factory, toiling long hours beside other women with few chances to pursue a proper love life. Thoughts about going steady and socializing with boys easily faded from her list of priorities and were replaced with more pressing concerns about the daily survival of her family. 

Felicyta did her best to persuade the Lithuanian girl to break with her boring routine. Normally, Tori excused herself by explaining that she was too busy working or tending to her sisters to spend time going out, but now that she had remained behind in the city to earn a wage, the brunette was suddenly freed from her previous obligations. She was now living apart from her family for the first time although she continued to support them financially. Felicyta assured her that this was a secret blessing. Tori was in serious need of some ‘me’ time and as her BFF, Felicyta pledged that she would do all she could to help her.

As the wall clock struck the hour, Tori buttoned the long wool coat over her dress and headed to the window that overlooked the street. There still was no sign of Felicyta or the motor car she promised she was borrowing from Dr. Väinämöinen, only the freshly falling snow as it landed on her windowsill. Tori closed the curtain and started to pace. Where was Felicyta? They were going to be late. She hoped nothing bad had happened. The distance between their apartment and the veterinarian’s office was short but the streets were still icy and some were still impassable. Tori startled when she finally heard the sound of a car stopping out front. A surge of relief washed over her as she checked again from the window and recognized Felicyta’s green coat amidst the field of white below her. Felicyta stared up at her from the street with a smile and waved.

 

************************************************************************************************************************************************************* 

 

The dancehall was filled with handsome young soldiers and beautiful woman, of which neither Felicyta nor Tori could really compare with. “What a fuckin’ waste this place is,” Felicyta complained after rejecting her fourth dance request of the evening. It wasn’t that Felicyta couldn’t dance; no, it was that she wouldn’t. Every man who approached her wasn’t good enough to enjoy her fabulous company. Either they were seriously below her high standards or they were Russian, and an automatic no in her book. 

Tori hadn’t danced yet either. She really hadn’t asked anyone, nor had anyone asked her, or maybe someone had but she kinda missed it because she kept shifting her gaze towards the parquet floor the moment any man tried to make eye contact with her. The entire situation of finding a decent dance partner made the brunette very uncomfortable and she couldn’t help feeling increasingly nervous whenever some young man stopped by their table to flirt. Sadly, it became very apparent to both women that neither of them were going to be dancing or going home with a man that night. 

“Let’s just like…leave,” Felicyta said as she sipped at her cocktail, “This place sucks.” 

“B-but, we’ve only been here for an hour.” Tori became distressed, this night was becoming a bust quickly. 

“The men here aren’t worth our time. We deserve like a million times better than these stupid guys. Do you even see anyone you’d dance with, anyway?” the blonde asked. 

Tori gave a quick glance around the room, “They’re all pretty handsome.” 

Felicyta frowned, “Well, whatever. Just, like, pick a guy out and give him a wave.”

Tori took a deep breath and turned her attention to a good-looking blonde man sitting by himself at the bar. Shyly, she put up her hand and waved to catch his attention. The man noticed her and flashed her a big smile as he got up from his stool. Immediately, Tori started to feel noxious as he made his way through the dancing couples towards them. Ah, This is a mistake, the brunette quickly realized as horde of nervous butterflies surged within her. Her face began to feel flush and the pit of her stomach ached as a chill ran down her spine. 

Oh dear god, what was she doing here trying to meet a man? She didn’t know anything about this guy coming towards her. So what was she supposed to do when he finally got to their table? Meet, drink and have sex with him afterwards? The thought made her physically sick and Tori found herself running from her seat into the bathroom. 

After dry heaving into the sink, Tori ran the tap and splashed cool water on her face. She didn’t care if the other women looked at her strangely. She felt more embarrassed that she dressed up and expected something important to happen. “Hey Tor, you OK?” 

Tori looked sheepishly towards her friend standing in the doorway, “I’m sorry Felicyta.”

“Don’t be, let’s just go. Most of the men here are Russians anyway so they’ll just turn out to be drunks.” Felicyta said.

Tori frowned and slowly nodded in agreement. The two women headed towards the exit. Felictya continued talking and even suggested going out to eat to make up for their bad experience at the party. Tori pushed the dancehall’s door open. With a heavy thud both she and Feliyta watched in horror as a soldier with a cane was hit with the door. Losing his balance from the sudden impact, the man fell back down the cement steps and landed in the snow. 

“Oh God,” Tori cried as she ran down the steps to the man’s aid, “Are you alright?”

“Nyet,” Ivan replied as he sat up and looked up at her, “I broke my vodka bottle.”

 

To be continued~!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review. Your feedback makes me happy!!


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